


Suddenly

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, all things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: A sequel to Bang Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down - post-all things, Scully finally catches up to Mulder.





	

Trust Mulder to tell Scully he was in love with her one minute and then turn around and run off with Diana Fowley in the next.  It stung.  Badly.  Not just that he’d trusted Fowley over her, but that he’d accused her of letting her personal feelings cloud her judgment.  It was a long time before she could forgive him of that.  

 

She never doubted the sincerity of his confession, but the desertion and the accusation that came so quickly later threatened to dismantle both their personal and professional relationship.  The trust that had been so hard won between them became all but lost overnight.

 

Whether he knew it or not, Mulder, it seemed to her, turned to outside sources to fill the space she once filled.  His random, late night phone calls stopped, and she assumed it was due to the tension between them, and it probably was, but when she found out about his friendship with Karin Berquist, it made sense to her.  She could see that Mulder and Karin were lonely, kindred spirits, even if he could not.  It pained her to think of him like that, and it became the catalyst of her desire to see them once again on better terms.

 

Progress was still slow.  He had that same look in his eyes when she’d nearly had her heart torn out of her chest on his living room floor as he did when she’d been shot in the gut.  And though he held her while she cried and she had to reassure him many times that she was fine, the usual overt gestures weren’t there.  He didn’t offer to stay with her, he didn’t ask if she was sleeping okay, he didn’t even crack a joke about it.

 

Then he had confused her by coaxing her out late one evening to play baseball.  It was the happiest she’d seen him in a long time.  He was relaxed and it made her relaxed as well.  He made her laugh and just for a few hours, everything felt right again.  Not long after that, the return of Diana Fowley changed everything again.

 

This time around, Mulder’s life was on the line.  While Scully was fighting for it on the other side of the world, the woman she had come to loathe and distrust had actually sacrificed herself to save him.  That was difficult for Scully to reconcile.  She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Fowley was an enemy to their cause, but the duplicitous woman had come through in the end, and it was hard to hold such malice when her actions had helped to rescue Mulder.  She had to have known it would cost her her life, and she did it anyway.

 

While Scully struggled with the aftermath, Mulder seemed to find some sort of peace he’d never had before.  He seemed lighter to her.  He kissed her at midnight on the new year, not the kiss of a man in love, but a kiss of a best friend to another.  She wondered if he still had feelings for her.

 

The lightness didn’t last, but it never seemed to last.  Donnie Pfaster broke out of prison and brought up all her old anxieties from years past.  She wanted to turn to Mulder after that case, but she didn’t.  She kept it bottled inside, locked tight in her chest where no one could get to it.  And then Mulder’s mother had died.

 

The barriers Scully had erected crumbled under the weight of Mulder’s grief.  She suddenly knew what Mulder had meant when he’d said that her pain was his pain.  She’d felt every one of his breathless sobs against her shoulder as though they were her own.  And it wasn’t as though she thought very highly of Teena Mulder, but the emotional outpouring it caused from her partner was heartbreaking.  She loved him fiercely and protectively in that moment.  Thinking about it in hindsight, it was probably the turning point for her.

 

Of course, just when things are moving in the right direction for them, they had to fall backwards.  And no one could cause a rift between them like CGB Spender could.  She still believes she made the right decision, with the facts she had at hand, to take up the mission alone.  But, that look of unbelievable disappointment in Mulder’s eyes was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to face.

 

She expected there to be more consequence to her weekend with Cancerman, but to her surprise, aside from one, painful and animosity-filled evening spent arguing about what she’d done, Mulder hadn’t brought it up again.  Not once.  It didn’t stop her from walking on eggshells around him, though she really had no reason to do so.  She got angry with herself for feeling so unnecessarily ashamed, and her annoyance came to a head when Mulder asked her to go to England with him.

 

Had he been snide or unforgiving, she would’ve had an excuse for her aggravation with him, but he wasn’t, and that was the most aggravating thing of all.  She needed a weekend away from him to recalibrate herself.  Little did she know, Daniel Waterston would re-enter her life and it would never be the same again.

 

In a semi-conscious doze on Mulder’s couch, she thought back over the last year since she’d been shot, since Mulder had told her he was in love with her.  She’d just had a very sleepy conversation with Mulder about choice and fate and all the paths one could take, or not take, and it seemed to her that A had led to B, had led to C, and so on, and now she was here.

 

She stood up and rolled the stiffness out of her back and neck.  The scratchy Navajo blanket Mulder had draped over her fell to the floor and she picked it up and hugged it against her chest.  She could smell him on it and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  She stayed that way for a few more moments and then she placed the blanket back on the couch and crept toward his room with a sense of purpose.

 

Mulder was asleep, which surprised her.  She didn’t think he ever slept.  His lamp was on, and a book lay open on his bare chest, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was slack.  Her heart skipped a beat.  The floor creaked as she moved closer and he opened his eyes.

 

“Hey,” he said, stretching his legs under his sheets and moving his arms with a little bit of disorientation.  The book fell from his chest and he pushed it aside as he sat up a little further up his pillow.

 

“Hey,” she answered.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

“I’m fine.”  She hovered at the foot of his bed, just looking at him.  She didn’t know how it could have taken her so long to really see him, but it was all so clear to her now.

 

“Are you leaving?”

 

“I got cold.”

 

“I gave you a blanket.”

 

“I know.”  She smiled a little and then shrugged off her blazer and laid it on his dresser.

 

“I don’t think that’s gonna help,” he said, raising his brows a little.

 

“I think someone told me once that crawling naked into a sleeping bag with someone else who’s already naked is the best way to generate body heat.”

 

Mulder glanced up at the window.  A light Spring rain tapped steadily against the pane, almost imperceptibly.  “Did it rain sleeping bags while I was asleep?”

 

“It might have.”  She untucked her shirt from her skirt as she walked around to his side of the bed.  He sat up fully and then reached for her hand, which she gave him, and sat down beside him, her hip pressing gently against his thigh.  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and then let go to reach up and tuck her hair back over her ear.

 

“I missed you,” he said.

 

“I missed you too,” she answered, leaning across his lap to press her hand down on the other side of his hip.

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Wow.”

 

She smiled and her hand came up to touch his chest.  Her fingers moved lightly across his sternum and then her palm came to rest just over his heart.  He looked at her questioningly and she cocked her head as he did in answer.

 

“What’s happening?” he asked.  A small rumble of thunder replied before she did.

 

“Do you remember Holman Hardt and Sheila Fontaine?” she asked.

 

“Kroner, Kansas.  Are you trying to tell me you’ve developed the ability to control the weather?”

 

She smiled and shook her head while her thumb stroked an arc over his heart.

 

“All I ask is that you not drop any cows on me,” he said.

 

“Sheila had doubts about her feelings for Holman.  She only thought of him as her friend, her best friend.”

 

“And Holman thought of her as the love of his life.”

 

She nodded and stared at his chest for a few moments.  “I told her that the best relationships are often rooted in friendship.  That sometimes, a switch gets flicked somewhere and the person who was just a friend, is suddenly the only person you could see yourself with.”

 

“Her switch was certainly flicked.”

 

“Yes, it was.”

 

“Did you believe that?”

 

“I did.  I do.”  She looked up at him and nodded.  “I think a switch has been flicked in me, and I want to know if yours is still on.”

 

“Just call me the Motel 6.”

 

She tipped her head in question and he gave her a cheeky grin.

 

“I’ll leave the light on for you,” he said.

 

She chuckled and dropped her head.  He rubbed the back of her shoulder and arm until she looked up again.  Her eyes moved over his face, taking in his sleepy gaze and pouty lips and late night stubble.  She took her hand off his chest and touched his cheek.  He covered her hand with his and looked into her eyes.

 

“Do you think you’re here by choice or by fate?” he asked.

 

“It really doesn’t matter,” she answered.  “It could be that I was led here, but where I want to be is here, right now, with you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Mulder, quit being such a skeptic.”  She smiled coyly so that he could see the humor in her eyes.

 

“Who are you and what have you done with Dana Scully?”

 

She didn't answer, simply let her gaze continue to move across his face and settle on his mouth.  Her thumb moved slowly across his cheek and then over the curve of his upper lip.  He moved a hand to the back of her neck and slid his fingers up through her hair.  

 

“I'm going to kiss you,” he said.  “Really, really kiss you.  How do you feel about that?”

 

“Shut up, Mulder,” she whispered.

 

He smiled as he drew her face closer to his. “There you are.”

 

The closer he pulled her, the more fully she came to rest against his chest.  Her hand slid back over his ear as their lips touched and he wrapped his free arm around her.  She relaxed and let him hold her up, tilting her head at just the right angle so she was nearly lying in his arms.  She opened her mouth in invitation and he took it without hesitation. 

 

Her eyes had nearly lipped shut in the moment of their kiss, but she kept them open just to see his face.  She wanted to know what he looked like at that precise moment.  He looked sleepy and peaceful, but the way he tightened his arms and pillaged her mouth was anything but.  All the passion was there that the New Year’s kiss had lacked, and then some.  He kissed her so deeply she felt it in her toes.

 

He broke from her and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing raggedly.  He kept his steady grip on the back of her head, but his other hand roamed her back in long strokes.  She stroked the shell of his ear and took his breath into her lungs.  She wanted more and yet she was content to just stay there and breathe him in for the rest of the night.

 

As much as she wanted to stay, her position was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.  Her back was twisted slightly towards him and she had one foot pressed to the floor to keep her hip from sliding off the side of the bed.  It was less than ideal.  Reluctantly, she started to pull away from him and his arms slackened.  His eyes opened and she could see the disappointment written on his face.  She placed a quick kiss on his lips to reassure him as she stood.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, and to prove it, she pulled her shirt up and over her head.  She felt fortunate to have chosen a black bra and panty set that morning, all lace and satin.  She knew Mulder wouldn’t care if she was wearing a burlap sack at the moment, but she was still glad to have something appealing to reveal.

 

Swiftly, Mulder pulled his sheets back and swung his legs over the side of the bed to face her.  He put his hands on her hips and moved her a step closer as he looked up at her.  She nudged his knees apart with hers and stepped between his legs.

 

“I just want to make sure you’re not going to walk out of here in the morning and think to yourself, ‘what have I done?’,” he said.

 

“I won’t think that.  Will you?”

 

“God, no.”

 

“Well, all right, then.”  She brushed his hand aside from her left hip and unzipped her skirt.  He slid his hands higher up on her waist as the skirt fell and she kicked it aside.  The only enticing way to remove her stockings was to have him do it, so she bent her knee slightly and pushed her thigh forward toward him.

 

Mulder raised his brows and she raised hers back at him, glancing down at her leg.  She saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down on a swallow before he wrapped his hand around the back of her bare thigh, just under the curve of her left butt cheek.  The fingers of his free hand slid inside the lace trim around the elastic holding the stockings up and he pulled them slowly down the front of her leg and off her foot.  She bent the right knee and he repeated the task.  By the time he was finished, there was an impressive bulge in the front of his boxers that she couldn’t ignore.

 

After he removed her second stocking, he ran his hand up the inside of her leg and she jerked a little as his fingers brushed the back of her knee.  He looked up at her with an amused smile.  “Ticklish?” he asked.

 

“At times.”

 

His hands moved away from her legs before they traveled too far up her inner thighs and he put them back on her hips.  She almost sighed in disappointment.  She had begun to throb from low in her pelvis and she was so looking forward to the relief his touch would bring.

 

“Is there room for two in that bed?” she asked.

 

“For you, always.”

 

She took one of his hands and then moved past him to crawl across the mattress.  She turned to face him on her knees in the middle of the bed and he crawled up after her.  She put her hands on his shoulders and he put his hands on her hips.

 

All she could think about was that her body was about to be against his body, not because either of them were hurt, but because they wanted to be with each other.  She couldn’t wait to know what he felt like when he was pressing her down with his weight or what his hips would feel like between her thighs or what his cheek would feel like against her breast.  

 

But, first, she wanted to know what his skin felt like under her hands.  She trailed her fingers down his chest, reciting proper anatomical names in her head for the muscles she traced as she went.   _ Pectoralis major.  Rectus abdominus.  Linea alba.  Umbilicus.  External abdominus oblique.  Iliac crest _ .   _ Inguinal ligament _ , her personal favorite, on him, which she was finally getting the chance to touch.  Not just touch, but drag her index finger along the line of.  His gut clenched like she knew it would and his chest heaved with heavy panting.

 

She shuffled forward on her knees, resting her hands at his sides, until her torso brushed his abdomen and she felt him take a deep breath against her.  She tipped her face up to him and he bent his head to kiss her.  He pulled at her hips, bringing her flush against his hard evidence of his arousal.  

 

Instantly, her body went loose and wet in anticipation.  She sagged against him for a moment and then leaned away, taking one hand from his shoulder so she could reach back to find the bed.  Unwillingly to break their kiss, she pulled him down with her and he hovered over her on hands and knees as she settled on her back, knees opened for him.

 

Already, she felt bereft when his body left hers.  He was close enough to raise the fine hairs on her arms, but not nearly close enough, and she urged him onto her with the press of her hands to his back.  Her thighs opened further as he lowered his hips and he came down to rest his weight on his forearms.  She arched her chest up into him and he groaned and pulled his lips from hers.

 

He kissed his way down her chest and his stubbled rasped across her skin, making her squirm and shiver.  She pushed her hips up into him and he pushed back so that they both groaned from the sparks of pleasure it created.  She knew it was too much, too soon, and she didn’t want to send him over the edge before they got to explore each other more, before they had even gotten fully naked with each other, so she pushed his hips away and allowed him to move further down her body.

 

He made it all the way down to her belly button with soft, wet kisses, even across one side to her hip, just above her gunshot scar, before he moved back up and pulled the cup of her bra down with his thumb.  He pushed her breast up to his mouth and flicked at the taut peak of her nipple with his tongue.  She whimpered softly and put her hands to his head, clenching her fingers in his hair.

 

“Take it off,” she murmured, surprised at the low growl in her voice.  She twisted her shoulder to lift her back up a little.  Without taking his mouth away from her breast, he slid his hands under her back and unhooked her bra with surprising ease.  “I don’t even want to know how you did that so quickly,” she husked.

 

Mulder chuckled a little and lifted his head just enough that she could loosen the bra and slide it off her arms.  He went for her unloved breast as soon as her chest was exposed.  She let him lavish his attention on her chest for awhile, but her lips started to miss his and she brought his head back up to hers.  His body settled against hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

This is Mulder, she thought to herself.  Mulder’s mouth.  Mulder’s hands.  Mulder’s body.  Mulder’s fingers.  Mulder’s legs.  Mulder’s tongue.  Mulder’s cologne.  Mulder’s skin.  Mulder’s arms.  Mulder’s hips.  Mulder’s back.  Mulder’s knees.  There was just one thing missing.

 

She tipped her head back out of his kiss and clenched her thighs against his hips.  “I want all of you,” she said.

 

“You already have all of me,” he murmured against her neck.

 

“Not quite.”  She brought her heel up to the top of his backside and pushed at the elastic of his boxer shorts.  “All of you.”

 

She didn’t want to, but she had to let him go so he could remove his boxers.  He sat back on his heels after his shorts had been tossed aside and she rolled her head to the side to look at him.  She ran her hand over the front of his thigh towards his erection, but stopped short half-way up. The only thing left was her own underwear and she rubbed her thighs together in a silent request for his assistance.  She lifted her hips slightly when he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and he drew them off her legs in much the same, slow manner he’d removed her stockings.

 

“Good God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

 

“So are you.”

 

“I mean, I’ve always known, you always have been, but with you like this, and that look in your eye...God, Scully.”

 

“What look in my eye is that?”

 

“The one that says you want this.  You want me.”

 

“I do want this.  And you.  Especially, you.”

 

Mulder moved back over her and she welcomed him back into her arms and between her thighs.  She held his face as he slid inside her, wanting to see his eyes.  She bit her lip against the burn of initial resistance, but it quickly melted into pleasure and she gasped for breath as he filled her with everything he had, both physically and emotionally.

 

“Mulder,” she whispered.

 

“Scully,” he whispered back.

 

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she let them slide shut as he moved against her.  This was not Daniel, who always needed the upper hand and took offense when she asked him to slow down and never asked if she needed anything.  This was not Jack, who never initiated intimacy and was too distracted most of the time to try to make it good for either of them.  This was Mulder, who would love her from afar until the end of time if she had never been ready for him.  She still didn’t know how she could’ve been so blind before.

 

“Scully,” he groaned.

 

“I’m close,” she answered.  “Don’t stop.”

 

She could feel the sweat sliding down his back between her fingers.  Her thighs quivered and burned, stretched apart by his hips and his thrusts.  He slid a hand under her back and pressed up against her tailbone.  His weight was held up by one hand, above her shoulder.  The sudden tilt of her hips was like magic.  Every upward thrust of his hips perfectly aligned his pubic bone with hers and she quickly floated higher and higher until the bubble of pleasure burst open and she came apart piece by piece.

 

Mulder groaned her name and his body tensed and shook against hers.  She held on, squeezing him as tightly as she could for as long as she could.  Slowly, they relaxed and he slipped out of her body, but she wasn’t willing to let him go quite yet.  He turned them onto their sides so his weight would be off of her and they came back together with tangled arms and legs.

 

“Call me a skeptic,” Mulder said.  “But, I’m still not quite sure that was real.”

 

Scully moved her hand down and pinched his backside, causing him to laugh and jerk his hips.  He conceded that it was real and she buried her face in his shoulder to smell his skin.  He turned her hair between his fingers.  The rain still fell outside and tapped gently against the window.  It was like nothing had changed, but everything was different.

 

“What flipped the switch, Scully?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” she answered, honestly.  “I just suddenly knew it was you.”

 

“What do we do now?”

 

“We should probably get some sleep.”

 

“Can we just stay here for a few more minutes?  I don’t really want to let you go quite yet.”

 

Scully tipped her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw.  He shifted himself lower and pressed his forehead to hers.  She rubbed her nose against his back and forth until he closed his eyes.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

 

“For what?”

 

“Leaving the light on.”

 

The End

  
  
  
  
  



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